The Woman In The Palace

Farewell

Hoon got me sick with him, and by the following week, we were both confined in our bed, hacking a coughing restlessly in our chamber. Hoon felt bad about getting me sick, but I didn't mind it, it was the most time I ever spent with him in our years of marriage which wasn't a bad deal.

I got better as the days passed while he didn't. Weeks went on, and his ailment only progressed into a bad case of pneumonia taking him months to fully recover. But he recovered much to everyone's relief, and I was thankful that he did. Hoon didn't succumb to his lung infection as we all feared he will.

The gods have mercy! The emperor exclaimed in his throne after Hoon recovered and threw another one of his lavish dinner party in celebration of his son's recovery.

Hoon later forced himself upon returning to his duties, even after the emperor forbade him from doing it. Hoon said he already missed months' worth of work and didn't want to neglect his responsibilities. The emperor argued his work could manage without him for a bit longer, but Hoon had proven himself to be quite a stubborn son and did what he wanted despite of his father's demand.

More months passed and just as we thought our lives were back to normal, the winter season arrived swiftly towing a fatal frost with it. The temperature dropped in frigid temperature during the first day of the harshest season. The cold was one of the worse in years.

People were not prepared for the sudden climate shift. The autumn had been gentle though-out the prior season leading people to believe the same will be for winter.

Only a day before, the cold weather was tolerable.

The first day of winter brought a deadly virus with it infecting half the population. Hoon had barely recovered from pneumonia not too long ago – leaving his immune system weakened and vulnerable – when he was hit with another sickness.

The dangerous infection claimed my husband immediately. It was as if the gods had a grudge on him and decided to punish him with one sickness after another.

Hoon fell sick again, and this time, it was more savage than what he experienced recently. My husband was bedridden, weak and exhausted. Most days, he's barely able to move around without ravaged by his pained skin and tender muscles.

The virus infection left me untouched as to mock me, make me watch as it slowly consumed my husband.

I cried each night he did not get better, dreading the day when he would no longer wake up from his sleep.

"Jas..." His voice cracked and struggled through his parched throat. Hoon lifted his head so he could get a better look at me, his eyes narrowed as he focused his blurred vision. Hoon gathered all his strength picking up his hand and placed it gently on my cheek. I held his hand with mine, watching him with concerned eyes.

Tears climbed and stung my eyes, streaming down unable to stop them.

"Why are you crying, my love?" He rasped.

"Remember that time when I said, don't leave me?"

He smiled at the memory. "What's the matter, my love? I haven't left you yet."

"But..."

"Don't cry, I wouldn't want you to cry for me." He murmured lovingly. 

"Please, get better." My voice plunged into desperation. "I will be lost without you."

"There's nothing to fear Jasmine." Hoon continued to smile. "I'm not afraid, there's someone else in the palace who loves you dearly as I do. We all knew this day would come, and when that day comes, when my body could no longer keep up with the world, I'm not so terrified because I knew I could count on someone to take care of you."

"I love you, Hoon," I whispered.

"I love you, Jas. You are the love of my life."

Hoon skimmed the back of my neck with his gentlest touch and took me into his arms, kissing me deeply in my mouth. It was like we were sent back on the day of our wedding night when he took me for the first time. Hoon was careful, he was gentle, and he moved with so much passion and love with each thrust, making the world rotate around us.

But I knew there was something wrong, because the way he held on to me, and the way I clung to him. The way our bodies molded as if our souls were at some sort of understanding, knowing more than our minds can wrap itself at the moment. 

Hoon knew he would not last another day, and by the time the morning came, after I had fallen asleep on his chest, my husband was no longer breathing.

Hoon died in his sleep that night. He was thirty leaving me a widow at a very young age of twenty.

A funeral was held for him not long after, and after about a few days or so, the emperor suffered from a massive heart attack following his son to his death. 

Perhaps, the emperor was too broken-hearted, and perhaps he didn't want to hold on to his life any longer. He had lost his favorite son, the son he loved and cared for so much.

The imperial family grieved, they gathered in condolence, later burying two of their kin the same week. The emperor and the second prince. The father and his son, leaving the entire palace in dark and quiet anguish.

I wept, I grieved lost and retreated from the world around me.

The entire funeral felt unreal, it was as if everything was a dream and I would wake up soon with Hoon still with me. I cried, all I remembered was crying, trying to accept the reality that my husband is no longer alive, no longer with me.